His China Doll
by KayKayeLLe
Summary: MaryWilson. Not much to say without giving it away...just give it a try.


***A/N: OK, a few things you need to know or you will be totally confused. This takes place before the seventh season. Ben does not exist, nor does Kevin. Wilson, **not Kevin**, is living in the garage apartment with the Camdens. He and Mary are kind of engaged, if you would call it that, and have been dating since Buffalo. 

***This is a standalone piece. It was supposed to go with a new series I started writing 9 days ago, but it turned out too good to be stuck as a chapter no one would read. I hope you all enjoy. I feel this is the best thing I have written maybe ever. Please review!

His China Doll

It was quarter to five in the morning, the beginning of a warm August day in GlenOak, California. The whole house was quiet, planning on sleeping the second to last Tuesday of the summer away. Everything was overly calm, unusual for the Camdens, except for the garage apartment. Wilson is bustling about the one and half roomed space, rummaging through his belongs for a plaid blanket he had had a day earlier. 

Wilson looked underneath the table in the kitchenette, spotted the blanket, and went to get Billy. He picked his son up into his arms, two blankets in hand at that moment, and walked out the door. Silently, he entered the house, and carefully walked up the stairs. He approached the twin's bedroom, and walked inside. Wilson laid one of the blankets on the floor, and then put Billy on top of it. Billy stirred in his sleep, opening his eyes just in time to see his father exit the room.

"Dad!"

Wilson's shoulders slumped as he turned to reenter the bedroom. "Billy, its early, go back to sleep."

"Where are you going? And why am I in here?"

"You're in here so that you won't be alone. I have to go do something- just go back to sleep please."

"Fine, fine, fine," he complied. "But tell Mary I said good morning."

Wilson smiled to himself as he continued on his early morning journey. He ventured up the attic stairs, and came into the room. Mary, Lucy, and Ruthie were all fast asleep. Wilson studied Mary for a second before waking her, his eyes captivated by her beauty. The room was dimly lit, but the faint morning glow was just beginning to filter through the attic's one tiny window. It seemed to dance across Mary's face like nothing he had ever seen before. He almost hated to disturb her- she looked so peaceful. Wilson contemplated for a second how he was going to execute his plan. Would he carry her? No, she was much too delicate. He decided he would just wake her, and lead her by the hand to their destination.

Without a sound, Wilson tiptoed to the foot of Mary's trundle bed. He put his hand on her leg, and nudged her ever so slightly. She rolled over, her back to the wall, but didn't open her eyes. Wilson went to her head, and gently put his hand on her warm face. Her eyes fluttered before opening fully. 

"Wilson," she said with a sigh. "What time is it?"

"4:50. Get up."

"In the afternoon?" she mumbled, her mind still somewhere between awake and asleep.

"No, in the morning. Now get up; I want to do something."

"Why? Its early."

"Just come on Mare," he said nonchalantly tugging her hand.

Mary rolled out of bed, almost falling flat on her face. Wilson put his arms around her while she regained her balance, and she moaned at the touch. Her skin always seemed extra-sensitive in the wee hours of the morning, and that information had been burned onto Wilson's brain for a while now. Careful not to put his hands on the exposed skin of her arms or midriff, he firmly grasped her hand and led her to their final destination. It was too early in the morning for Mary to be able to see where she was going, and she kept grabbing onto Wilson in between yawns to keep from tripping over her own two feet.

"Here, sit," he said to her as he pulled her downward. "Now open your eyes. I didn't come all the way up here for you to sleep."

Mary leaned toward the sound of Wilson's voice in her half-awake state, and put her head on his shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw only the sky before her. Mary jumped at the site of it, grabbing tightly onto Wilson's shirt. 

"It's OK," he said soothingly. "We're on the roof."

"Oh," Mary answered. "And why are we up here?"

"Remember when you said you wanted to watch the sun rise with me," he told her, "well now we can."

Mary looked back out at the view- the tops of at least seven blocks worth of houses, one car going down the street she knew like the back of her hand, the spasmodic trees that seemed that stretched as far as her eyes could see. In the corner, almost hiding from her view was the faint orange glow of the rising sun. She smiled at the sight of the ball of fire, and snuggled closer into Wilson.

"Thank you," she whispered next to his ear. "This is exactly how I wanted it to be."

Mary and Wilson sat for over an hour watching the sun climb the sky, enjoying each other's company. The time passed quickly for Wilson, with small talk and occasional lip locks every time the sun hit Mary's face just right. Everything was going just as he planned it would, with the exception of one thing- the nagging issue that lay buried in the back of his mind since the words were uttered. 

_How about a long engagement…a year or two maybe. Wilson, I love you, and I want to marry you, but I don't think I'm ready right yet. I was thinking we could sort of ease into it, you know? Get closer with the idea of marriage planted in our heads._

That statement rang through his mind every time he looked at her, but it seemed louder at the moment. 

"Well, the idea's been planted- almost a year ago. Let's see if it's ready to grow yet," he thought to himself. He went to speak, but the words didn't come. The moment was so perfect he didn't want to spoil it with stupid things like marriage. Marriage wasn't all that important, right?

"Mary, I've been thinking," he finally said aloud. His voice sounded so strong- so hurtful. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

"Yeah?" she said imperturbably. 

Her voice sounded like the song of an angel- literally music to his ears. He couldn't go on. He didn't want to say what he was thinking, afraid of pushing her away. This was better than nothing, right? But he had to tell her. This relationship was not fair to him. The waiting was driving him nuts; apparent by the frequent conversation he seemed to have with himself since he moved out to GlenOak.

"Earth to Wilson?" she said with a giggle.

"Oh right, sorry. I've been thinking Mare…"

"I know, you told me already. Thinking about what?"

"About our relationship. I don't want to pressure you, but…" He really should have worked this out before he decided to ask her about it. Too late now. "We've gotten really close- closer than we have ever been. You can finish my sentences and I can do the same with you. We're perfect for each other and I love you with my every being."

"I love you too," she said to him.

Good, good. She wasn't mad yet, maybe she's finally ready. "I want you to be my wife, and I can't stand the waiting anymore. I want to be able to-"

"I'm not ready yet," she said abruptly.

"Well, can I do something to make you feel more comfortable? Just name it."

"No, not really. It's not that I'm not comfortable, it's just not the right time."

All Wilson wanted to ask her was if it would ever be the right time, or if they were just wasting their youth away being together without a future. Instead, he said, "How do you know it isn't the right time?"

"I just do," she said with her aggravated tone of voice, one that told Wilson to back off.

Despite his instincts, though, he persevered. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about. I don't want to be forced into marrying you if-"

"If you don't want to?" Wilson blurted out without thinking. "That's it," Wilson thought. "It's all down hill from here. I'd have better luck now if I jumped off the roof."

"That's not what I said," Mary said firmly. Wilson could tell she was taken aback by his statement, but it didn't faze him as much as it would have any other time. Right now, he wanted some answers, and he would do whatever it took to get them.

"But is that what you're thinking?"

"No!" she shouted, moving away from his embrace. "What I meant is exactly what I said: I'm not ready."

"I don't understand though, why not?"

Mary turned her face away from Wilson as tears of anguish rolled down her cheeks, landing on her lips and melting into her dry mouth. "I love you, and I do want to marry you," she said with dramatic pacing that only she could pull off, "but I'm scared, OK? I'm scared, frightened, petrified! I'm afraid I won't be good enough for you. I'm afraid I'll let you down, or Billy down, and I wouldn't be able to look myself in the eye if I ever did that. I'm scared that you'll end up hating me, or I don't love you the way you want me to, or our marriage will just plain fail. Everything that happens with you is uncertain- and I like that, but not now. I don't like being so uncertain of what would lie ahead if I was you're wife. And every second I spend with you I feel like I'm being pressured to do something I'm that scared to do."

"I didn't mean to pressure you into anything, you know that. But lately, I've been feeling that there's no point in being in a relationship with you if we're not going anywhere. I feel so strongly for you, and I couldn't imagine having a day pass without holding you, or hearing you're voice, or kissing your lips. I want you to be mine forever and I want to be yours forever. And if you don't feel the same way do you want to continue to waste our time?"

"You think you're wasting your time with me?" she asked with hurt in her eyes. Wilson had only see that look twice, the two times prior to now that they broke up, and he knew that it wouldn't lead to anything good. He had to attempt to turn this conversation around fast.

"No. When I walked in to wake you up his morning, and I saw you, all I wanted to do is climb in that bed with you and hold you like I know only I can do. The reason I want to get married is so that we can do things like that and have it be OK. I know how you feel about those things and you know how I feel…"

"Did you just say you're marrying me for sex? That's all you want from me?!" Mary yelled loud enough to wake up as much of GlenOak as the view from the roof held in its hands.

Wilson took a deep breath and counted to ten before speaking. "I would never take advantage of you. I love you Mary."

"I love you too," she said calmly, " but right now you're frustrating. You're not listening to me at all. I said I want to marry you and you doubt me. But like I said I need some more time. I need to figure out what we both really want out of this relationship, and the relationship we'd have if we were married. That way I'll stop being so scared."

"OK. How can we go about doing that?"

"I don't know," she said, tears beginning to pour from her eyes, "but whatever it is I wouldn't do it right now. You hurt me Wilson, you really hurt me. I love you, but I'm mad." Mary stood up at the end of her sentence and went and sat on the other side of the roof. 

"Do you want me to take you back inside?"

"I'm not going back in the house. They'll all know we had a huge fight and I don't want any of them involved in our business like that. It only concerns me and you," she said with her back still toward him.

Wilson shifted his position so that he could see her face. Her porcelain white skin gleamed in the sunlight from her tears. She reminded him of one of those china dolls his mother used to collect. They were so beautiful, delicate, and forbidden behind the glass display case in the foyer of his childhood home. This doll was valuable as well- his favorite. She stood out above all the rest he had ever seen. Wilson wanted to go over and comfort her but it was too late. He had broken his favorite, precious china doll. Big chunks of her lay on the floor. The pieces could always be put back together, but she would never be the same as she was before. Cracks don't ever heal.

After a few minutes, Wilson got up and picked up the blanket he was sitting on. He crossed the roof and stood behind Mary. He draped the blanket across her shoulders, and sat down next to her. She laid her head upon his shoulder, and there she was, more than ever, his precious china doll.


End file.
